#if you read this and loved it i would love to get a different perspective on this book

[faerytreealtars]

How To Reach Your Destined Role? ~ Advice & Guidance on your journey through life.

Hi everyone, I'm finally back with another Pick a card! This time I am doing the PAC that the majority voted for and it is all about who are you destined to be? How can you get to that level? Or perhaps you already are there? Pick an image which draws you in and that shall be your pile!

This PAC took a lot longer to get around to than I would have hoped, but I had to put myself first as I'm sure you will understand between battling mental health struggles and then physical ailments, which have still not cleared up but hopefully I will get there soon! Still, I feel brighter and more energized mentally so I thought it was about time to get back on the horse, so to speak anyway without further rambling shall we get into the piles...

[ Image credit goes to ilikefairies ]

Pile One ~

[ Cards drawn: The Magician, The lovers, three of swords & the sun.]

[ Top Of Deck - Nine of cups. ]

Who are you meant to be: You are meant to be a free-spirited soul so do not worry about rushing into choices of who or what you are meant to be. Before I had even pulled any cards I heard the message in my head that you have lots of opportunities in this life and you can choose to be many different versions of yourself, many people get stuck into the mindset that there is only one version of themselves that can exist in this world but that is untrue, it is up to you who you want to be, exist in a way that brings you happiness. Now based on the image you chose and the messages the cards are sharing with me, I feel you are someone who is meant to bring more love, light and hope into this world by merely existing you do this but if you wish to be more proactive then read the next part and hopefully the messages will resonate for you.

How to get there: You need to become more aware of your power in this world, and how your actions and emotions can influence your days. How your thought patterns can affect your choices and beliefs. They either will push you onwards towards happiness and success or hold you back in stagnation and fear but when you work on finding your footing, grounding more in the present moment and working on having more confidence in yourself. seeing yourself as worthy and lovable on the bad days as well as the good then you come closer to the higher power that connects you with your soul. With the three of swords present you have gone through much despair and heartbreak, it has toughened you to this world which can indeed be cruel and though those experiences however sorrowful they were gave you much more perspective and wisdom on human nature and your own inner world they were not meant as punishment or as a way to put out your light. With the sun following this card I can tell that it is your loving energy and the fact you feel so deeply that can power you on to create brighter days not just for yourself but for others too, do not fear sharing your experiences or using them in your creations or hobbies to add inspiration to others life. All in all, I can see you living a good life, not without its challenges but a life like that is unlikely and perhaps boring! The final advice I hear is to keep working on yourself, masterpieces cannot be rushed and you should focus on what intrigues and brings you happiness in the moment, don't worry about having it all figured out too soon. Best of luck, my dear pile one!

Pile Two ~

[Cards drawn: Page of cups, Knight of cups, the Star & eight of swords]

[Top of the Deck: Ten of Cups]

Who are you meant to be: Okay, woah Pile two your energy is so happy and bright I love it thank you for letting me bask in it for a while!! If no one ever tells you that you are wonderful and lovable then let me please be the one to tell you now: You are wonderful and lovable in so many ways, thank you for existing!! Anyway on with your reading. So we have a lot of water energy going on here so right off the bat I can tell you are meant to be someone who values and uplifts your own as well as others' emotions. I keep hearing therapist in my mind and though I never intended this reading to be about careers perhaps that is a job you feel drawn to or perhaps you already seem to act like everyone's personal therapist in your day-to-day life. (I know that can get tiring so do put your own wants, needs and boundaries first if you feel that others are putting too much upon you.) I am now also hearing teacher and parent so yeah it may be in your destiny to help shape and mould the next generation into as bright and uplifting a soul as you are yourself. Now in a more general sense, I can see you are meant to be someone who always strives first to open others' eyes to truths in the world that others may want to turn a blind eye to, sometimes this may make you feel alienated and insecure of yourself but keep striving on and never back down for those who wish to put your down like to see you trapped in your insecurity and doubt it allows them to get away with all the malice they put into the world but you are far bolder and brighter than them and your presence, voice and actions help to bring forward a more hopeful future.

How to get there: Honestly Pile two I feel you are already on your way to getting there without much guidance from anyone else but I will say keep listening and feeling your emotions, honouring them as truth for it is how your intuition seems to let itself be heard. Keep working on your communication skills for I feel they are a skill you will be using quite a lot in the future or perhaps you already do. Finally don't be afraid of having a bad day, you are allowed to feel negative about things and it's totally okay to lean on others as much as they lean on you. Don't get so caught up in overthinking and doubts, or even worries about how to help others sometimes we have to let others make it through their own lessons in life, it is like the baby turtles who hatch on the beach and must make it to the sea on their own power and will, not all of them will make it but we can't intervene less we can cause more harm than good. That's all I'm getting for you pile two. I wish you the best and again I just love your energy so keep being you because it brings so much happiness to the world.

Pile Three ~

[ Cards drawn: The magician, The high priestess, seven of pentacles, four of cups ]

[ Top of the deck: The Tower ]

Who are you meant to be: You are meant to be someone who changes, themselves and the world. You are like a phoenix who rises from the ashes and is rebirthed as a newer, better you after every fall. I am also getting the visual of a chameleon who changes to fit their environment. This at times may have left to feeling confused or a sense of imposter syndrome but do not fear it is a skill and talent all in itself and it is not a wrong thing to be doing. It allows others to feel more comfortable around you so then in turn you can aid them in bettering themselves. Now to focus more on you, who this reading is meant to be helping I can see you are meant to a more spiritually in tune individual who listens and honours their mystical power, of which you have a lot. I feel many of you have been shamed or forced into behaving "sensibly" when you try to show this part of yourself as many cannot understand it and feel it doesn't help with the real world. Please stop listening to them, you would not have this connection to your higher self and the divine if it was not meant to benefit you and the world in some way. So feel free to behave as "woo-hoo" as you wish, the ones who value and respect you will stick around and those who behave in ways that try to condition and control you will eventually leave and you will be all the better for it!

How to get there: Work on listening to your intuition more, remember that intuition is a message that carries calm energy while anxiety will make you feel frantic and in the need to rush. You do not need to rush. As the seven pentacles show you need to cultivate patience and wait for the seed to grow. Trust that all that you are doing, even if at times it is having to sit and do nothing is helping to nurture and give your dreams and goals the best chance of success. I also feel you need to take more time to give yourself mental rest, let your mind grow still and quiet, focus on one thing at a time and seek more time for meditation. This in turn may help you feel more grounded and grateful for all you already have and all you have already achieved. Finally do not fear the tower falling, in the midst of the chaos it may feel like the end but you will begin to see it is simply the clearing of the unneeded and stagnated to allow for the creation of the brighter and better. From it you will always become wiser, stronger and yes even kinder.

I wish the best to all of you in pile three, I know the days may seem long and hard but try to focus on the simple gratitudes and you will begin to see the sun beam from behind the clouds. Until next time, Love Fae.

[paisleypens]

Hello! I hope you’re having a wonderful day, i just have a request if that’s okay.

Could you maybe do Spencer Reid x fem!reader who is smart but doesn’t really get the chance to show the areas she’s smart in? I don’t know if that makes sense, but like in other words she’s insecure because everyone else is so smart and can figure out things so quickly, yet her brain works slower and it takes her a while to figure things out? So she just feels dumb around them? And one day she overhears (I know none of them would do this but it's for the purpose of the story) someone talking bad abour her and uses the word dumb?

And then sweet little Spence finds her crying? You can have fun with the ending, I want you to have some freedom with it!

Thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope you have a wonderful day. And you don’t have to write this just a suggestion. (AND I LOVE YOUR SPENCER STORIES THEY’RE SO AMAZINGLY WRITTEN LOVE) 💗💗💗

I LOVE YOU STOP IT. this request is gorgeous and so real. i get really bad imposter syndrome so i hope yall find this as comforting as i did 🫶 i also haven’t been giving reid any love lately send some reid stuff my way!!

different strengths | spencer reid x f!reader

~~~

You sat at your desk, methodically typing out a report, trying to ignore the soft chatter of your colleagues in the bullpen. The rest of the BAU team always seemed to crack cases so effortlessly, piecing together intricate puzzles with the speed and precision of master craftsmen. You admired them, but the admiration often turned into a gnawing insecurity. Despite your intelligence, you struggled to keep up, your brain needing more time to process and connect the dots.

Your fingers paused over the keyboard as a murmur from the break room caught your attention. You couldn't help but eavesdrop when you heard your name.

"...she's nice, but she just doesn't get things like we do. It's like, I don't know, her brain works slower or something. Maybe she’s just dumb."

Your heart sank. The word "dumb" hit you like a punch to the gut. Fighting back tears, you slipped away from your desk and found refuge in one of the empty offices. The door clicked shut behind you, and the dam broke. You sank into a chair, sobbing quietly into your hands.

Spencer Reid, with his keen observational skills, had noticed you slipping away. He had always been drawn to you, your kindness, and your unique perspective, even if you didn't see it yourself. Worried, he followed you and after a moment gently knocked on the door.

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

You quickly wiped your tears and tried to compose yourself, but your voice wavered as you responded. "Yeah, I'm fine, Spencer. Just needed a moment."

He wasn't convinced. He opened the door and stepped inside, his face etched with concern. "I heard what they said. I'm so sorry, Y/N."

Fresh tears welled up in your eyes. "It's true, Spencer. I just... I can't keep up with everyone. I feel so stupid."

Spencer's heart ached at your words. He moved closer, his eyes soft with empathy. "Y/N, you are not stupid. Your intelligence is just as valuable as anyone else's here. You see things differently, and that's a strength, not a weakness."

You looked up at him, sniffling. "But I never get to show what I'm good at. Everyone's always ten steps ahead."

Spencer knelt down beside your chair, his gaze earnest. "That's not true. You contribute in ways you might not even realize. The way you connect with victims' families, your attention to detail, your intuition... those are things none of us can do as well as you can."

His words were a balm to your wounded heart, and you managed a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Spencer."

He smiled back, a warmth spreading through him at your expression. "How about we get out of here? It's the end of the day, and I know a great place for ice cream. My treat."

You chuckled softly, feeling lighter already. "I'd like that."

As you both walked out of the office together, the tension began to fade. You exchanged stories, laughed about cases, and for the first time in a while, you felt seen and valued.

Sitting in the ice cream parlor, the two of you shared a banana split, your shoulders brushing occasionally, sending sparks of electricity through both of you. Despite your insecurities, Spencer's presence made you feel safe and appreciated.

As you finished the last bite, Spencer looked at you, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "You know, Y/N, I've always admired you. You're smart, kind, and incredibly strong. Anyone who can't see that doesn't know what they're talking about."

Your heart fluttered at his words, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Thank you, Spencer. That means a lot to me."

He reached out, gently squeezing your hand. "Anytime. And remember, you're not alone. We all have different strengths, and together, we make a great team."

You squeezed his hand back, feeling a surge of affection for the man sitting across from you who would never grab anyone else’s hand normally. "I think so too."

As you left the parlor, the evening sun casting a warm glow over everything, you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, things would be alright. And perhaps, you weren't the only one with feelings that had been hidden for far too long.

[theoryofthemultiverse]

I know this is probably out of character for him, but... Imagine Dr. Ratio being flustered about having a crush, but only when no one is looking. Bonking his head on his desk, writing poetry only to hide it under various books, getting snappy and mean with others because he's so confused over his own feelings. Like, yeah, he knows what it is, but *why*? There's no conclusive data to tell why he feels this way! His crush is just like any regular person, surely there must be some pattern or combination of factors that can explain this!

Ladies and gentlemen, this right here…

YES! JUST YES!

Honestly I had a thing in my drafts and I wanted to pin point it too so thank you for getting that stone rolling. I don’t actually believe it would be so much out of character for him!

Veritas Ratio would be agitated. A crush? On a normal person? It cannot be. He was set on dying alone, toxically thinking no one could ever match his intellect, so he would surely never fall for anyone would he?

Oh he was so wrong. When he met his crush he instantly viewed his crush as an ordinary person. A person that wouldn’t play a big part in his life’s strategy. Well you can give him 0 points for that because that mindset was gonna be obsolete when he finds out this person possesses an ability that he finds fascinating, utterly fascinating.

Like his crush f.e. being extremely good with emotions, just being very kind, or having any other personality trait that makes them special, that makes them themselves. Also preferably a trait that he doesn’t have, at least not this strongly.

For example, he might be creative to some point, but if he met his crush who had their own imaginative view of the world, that probes him to change his perspective from time to time. Also with a person that is not a genius there would maybe come a certain simplicity to said perspectives which he could find fascinating either.

But nevertheless the reason, because as we all know, love just strikes at the most coincidental moments with the most different of people:

He would still be confused. Himself a man of pure focus that is really never wavering suddenly finds himself to be staring inside his book and committing a (at least to him) sin, by only reading superficially. All while he also then catches himself to suddenly just let his eyes run over the paragraphs, thinking he is reading but in the meantime his thoughts run back towards his crush.

Poor man read enough books about it to know what it is for sure so at first he’d be the kind to gaslight himself out of it.

„No you are not in love, they are just a nice person, this is it. You are thinking about what they did that made you think about them, not them personally.“

Save to say that doesn’t work long and then, like this dear anon said he would hit that head on the tabletop, or sink under the water of the bathtub. Because he realizes he has no chance in fighting this.

And Veritas, a man of reason, would search for said one. He would do a complete psycho analysis first of himself and then of his crush to find out what about them makes him go oh ever so crazy.

Because he simply couldn’t continue to work this distracted. He feels like a fish out of water. Also we know he is not the kind of person that would leave this untouched. He might be embarrassed but he knew if he couldn’t continue his work productively soon then he might get an existential crisis.

So he copes with it, not sure if with poetry (if so he would do it in Latin to make sure no one accidentally reads it ;) or also, and he really really thinks 10 times about it before giving in to his love wrecked brain’s desires, sculpting his crush.

His students would be confused with him as well because they might just find him to be a pinch too less strict. So when he is distracted with thoughts of his crush he might let one or two mistakes slide. But everyone knows to better not ask him about it, or he is going to snap.

All in all he is going to try to get closer to his crush then, to find out more about what they did to him. And while he might also do that to desperately find flaws in his crush, it would just make him fall harder…

[im-getting-help]

I wouldn't change Saltburn at all, i love that movie and im so happy that it exists exactly as it is.

That being said... i need more. Emerald if you can hear me, i need more SB, please. I need an extended edition, a 7hs directors cut, OR maybe a directors narration?? idk, something, anything. I need an audiobook read by Barry, i need more Oliver. Or maybe the book is Felix POV??? yes! that sounds amazing, to get to know him? agh! i would sell both my kidneys Em.

I need more, im dying for more. I need to sit every actor and ask them about their perspective, maybe make it into a book. i need the release of those diaries Barry wrote about the different sides of Oliver. i need merch like a figurine of the minotaur or a mini maze. i need that bathrobe.

Im insatiable just like Oliver, he can't get enough of Felix and i can't get enough of him.

[the---hermit]

The Penelopiad by Margaret Atwood

This review might contain spoilers so consider yourselves warned

The Odyssey edition I recently got included after the main text many other works regarding the story and this was one of them. I was really excited to read this since it had been on my radar for a while, and reading this right after reading the original work felt perfect. I won't lie to you it was a big disappointment. This is supposed to be Penelope's version of the story, but I really did not like a lot of things. The writing is nice and the idea is very cool, but there were a lot of elements that really annoyed me. The first being the portrayal of Helen. I was expecting a feminits retelling with women supporting women, and I just got the age old narrative of Helen is the cause of the war and should be blamed for it, plus she is only her looks and is kinda cruel with people, she uses seduction to play and have fun with those who are around her and so on. This really pissed me off, especially because at the beginning of the story when Penelope is quite young and we get this description of Helen, Penelope comes out of it as your typical "not like other girls" girl. Helen is bad because she is pretty and uses that in a negative way, whereas Penelope is not the pretties but she is smart and maids make fun of her because she is naive. Honestly that was a huge nope for me. And in the rest of the story this sentiment of Helen being the one to blame for the war is repeated several times. As If that wasn't enough basically all characters are negative. Telemachus is a bratty young boy who acts like a man and probably wants his mother dead, and although I get the emphasis on how annoying he is towards his mother (because that is very much present in the original work) the fact that basically everyone comes out as bad including him fell a bit flat for me. The older maid always seems resentful, Odysseus' mother blames Penelope, Laerte avoids her completly. The only positive characters in this story aside from Penelope herself seem to be the 12 young maids who are always a collective being. But at the end of the day they are good because they do what Penelope asks for them even though that might mean enduring violence, and at the end they pay for it in a brutal way. I don't know, I am not happy with this book. There were a couple of interesting points, one being these 12 maids than in a way are seen in a better light in this version of the story which was nice compared to the original text were they are just portrayed as greedy women who turn their back on Penelope and Odysseus in favour of the cruel suitors. The other interesting element that I liked was the way Penelope takes the fantasy element out of her husband's stories. The fantastical adventures are stripped of their lies and they become mundane and un-epic. That was a cool touch, but these two things aside don't balance out how annoyed I am at the portrayal of Helen and everything I talked about. I am left wondering whether I missed something or read the story wrong. I was surely not expecting to have such a bad experience with this book.

[gideonisms]

I bet whoever started the church doctrine of never loving anything in the world more than god just had god as a special interest

[mars-ipan]

thinking about my hypothetical dangan self insert again. i wanna psychoanalyze those fuckers soooo bad

[drchucktingle]

Hey Dr. Tingle, I understand where you're coming from, it sucks that people are so irony-poisoned that they don't understand that your work comes from a place of true passion.

But I am wondering - are your book premises meant to be taken entirely seriously? Because I always thought that the titles and images, while not *bad*, where meant to be read with a sort of lighthearted comedy, like the titles you pick and the contrastive style of your art seems like intentionally sort of amusing in tone and rhythm? Is that correct, or completely off base? Because I do feel like that's where people get primed to read more of a joke into some of these things than maybe was intended, and I think that it's true for the people who do take the writing seriously that they find the context a little amusing, also, and I don't know if that's on or off the intended track from your perspective.

Hope that makes sense! I don't want to come across as rude or anything

yes my books premises are meant to be taken entirely seriously.

i would say tinglers fall into genre of magical realism and erotica. i do not think of them as comedy although i understand that many, if not THE VAST MAJORITY of buckaroos see them that way. that said i often lean into comedy or have funny moments throughout, but honestly that is the way of almost ALL stories. funny things happen in every genre, but that does not make all stories comedy.

to my trot, what defines something as COMEDY is intent. the goal of comedy is to make you laugh. my main goal with tinglers in NOT to make you laugh, so i do not consider them comedy.

HOWEVER it is important to keep in mind that i am not the expert on my art just because i made it. if a buckaroo laughs at tinglers they are not wrong. it is just as much their art as it is mine, and my interpretation is not the END ALL BE ALL. just because i made a piece of art does not mean i know it better than you do, or that my opinion on it is more valid.

tinglers can be whatever you want, and i am not hurt or offended if you laugh at them. that difference in perception is whats so beautiful and powerful about art.

i think a good way to look at what i do is this: i am an absurdist PHILOSOPHICALLY, but absurdism is so often associated with comedy that sometimes buckaroos who do not know about the philosophy can think they are the same thing. something being absurd does not automatically mean it is meant to be funny. my art is also joyful, and i think joy and humor can also be confused sometimes.

all that is to say, laugh all you want buckaroo. you prove love is real in your own unique way

[suiana]

(yandere! infected harem x gn! reader) (HEAVILY inspired by LT may's book 'infected' on wattpad, go read it!!!)

This was exactly like a zombie infection. No, it was worse.

You couldn't even remember how it all started. You were just sitting in class one day, listening to your tutor yap about something boring when all of a sudden you heard people screaming.

The once peaceful world you knew was suddenly turned upside down. Everyone had changed for the worse, or better, if you see it from their perspective.

The infected, that's what people are calling them.

They're insane, crazy, obsessive. The epitome of what people once called toxic. But now, it's becoming the norm. And it's all because of that crazy scientist who developed this infection and made it an airborne virus.

You see this as something like a zombie infection. The people who're infected... they're practically... dead. Well, not really. They turn alive once they see their darlings. Right, darlings. That's what the infected are calling the uninfected.

But anyway, these infected people are practically zombies now. Like, enhanced zombies? Maybe? Their physical abilities are no joke, not to mention how much smarter they've all become. And their emotions... God, they're like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

The worst part is, the love emotion has spiralled out of control. All their passion, love, intrusive thoughts... They've lost all sense of rationality when it comes to their beloved darlings. They've become crazy in love for anyone they've had their eyes on prior to the infection. That's why the infected turn alive when they see their darlings. That's why so many people are going missing. That's why you call this a zombie infection.

Because somehow, someway, if you're uninfected and you get caught by an infected... Chances are, you're likely to turn infected as well. Apparently everyone breathed in the infection virus, some just react to it faster than others, hence the huge outbreak of infecteds. Those who didn't turn yet are apparently stronger in health or simply can't react to the infection.

And that's what brings you to your current situation. As an uninfected with their morality and common sense still in-tact.

It's crazy how the people you once called your friends are acting like monsters for their lovers now. You still can't wrap your head around that fact. But to everyone else who got infected it's nothing but a small step to get their darlings.

You can't stand it.

Why is everyone acting like this is something normal? Just a few weeks ago they'd all call this act immoral and simply insane! And now they're doing the same exact thing they vowed to never do? God you absolutely despise that scientist who created this infection.

The same can't be said for the people who are infected though, especially... your admirers.

Look! There's one right now.

"Darling! Has your infection kicked in yet?"

A cheery voice hums, a cute boy coming into view as he stares at you with the most lovesick eyes you've ever seen. Oh, right, forgot to mention but the infection takes place differently in everyone. Apparently it takes form based on your true personality, or whatever the fuck that means.

Meaning that if you were shy prior to the infection, you'd be more shy with your love. Your true personality would either turn you into a clingy wet kitten desperate for your darling's love or to a crazy homicidal maniac that goes insane if their love is not reciprocated. The infected would still be obsessive and possessive to a certain extent. But the rest of the traits are completely dependent on how you really were before getting infected.

And this guy was your friend who was super fucking clingy before the infection. Turns out he was in love with you and the infection just made things a hundred times worse.

"Um, no-"

"Why not? I can't wait for your affection!"

"Uh-"

"Pipe down shorty. You're making them uncomfortable."

Ah, how could you have forgotten that you not only had one admirer, but another one? Actually, scratch that. You had more than 2. Everyday there would be more and more people confessing their love to you, so much that you began to lose count of how many people held you in their hearts.

But there were 4 prominent people who stood out with their affections. And these 2 were it. Unfortunately.

Because even though one was more clingy and the other was more aloof, they had murdered the other admirers ruthlessly in cold blood. At least the aloof one had the decency to wash off the blood before coming to you. This clingy one came to you, all wide eyed and smiley, thinking you'd hug him when he was drenched in blood.

The fact that laws had been changed too didn't help either. People could now openly commit crimes that were once deemed illegal as long as they were proven to be done in the name of love. How cruel.

"Can you both just leave me alone?"

You grumble, glaring at your two admirers as you hide your face in your hands. You were so fucking tired of it all. Not only were you constantly on edge because you were uninfected and could be killed because you looked at someone a little too long, but you also had to deal with the weight of being so many people's obsessions.

This cursed dystopian world that changed in the blink of an eye... Ah, you had only wished you treasured the sweet days of the old world a little more.

[navybrat817]

How often does Dad!Bucky get hit on when he's in the baby aisle grabbing diapers?

A lot, Cia! And you get to see it one day.

The Dad Diaries: Diaper Aisle

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You witness a woman flirting with Bucky, but you don't react the way you expect. Word Count: Almost 1.2k Warnings: Fluff, flirting, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), parenthood, random woman thirsty for Bucky (we get it), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Next part of The Dad Diaries and from your perspective. Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky doesn’t like to make a big deal out of people flirting with him. For starters, he’s a married man and has made it clear that he has no intention of ever stepping out on you. He would never. You are his wife and soulmate, the love of his life, and the mother of his child. You’re all he needs.

Second, he’s unassuming. You tell him regularly how handsome he is, but he isn’t arrogant about his looks and doesn’t think every woman who looks his way has the intention of hitting on him. He may give a polite smile or nod if he catches someone staring, but will immediately divert his attention back to the task at hand, such as getting those diapers for Jamie.

Fatherhood is sexy on him.

“Your Dada is amazing,” you say to Jamie as you wait beside your cart for Bucky to grab the box.

You smile to yourself when a woman nearly runs her cart into the shelving when Bucky walks past. Not that you blame her for staring. With his luscious locks flowing free, his worn jean jacket fitting like it was made for him, and the sweatpants leaving little to the imagination, you would’ve gawked at him, too.

Which you did earlier and were now.

“Excuse me,” the woman calls out loudly, making Bucky pause as he puts the box under his arm. “So sorry to bother you, but would you mind grabbing a jar for me off the top shelf? I would really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he says, giving you a small smile from across the aisle as he goes to help the woman.

You wait patiently as the lady thanks him with a grin. You get why she wants Bucky close by. Beyond his overall gorgeousness and kindness, he displays a responsible side of himself when he walks through the baby aisle. He never carries himself in a way that says he’s annoyed or inconvenienced by being there. Carefully selecting the diapers and anything else needed shows how attentive he is. And responsible.

You understand the appeal.

Though, you do wish the lady would stop undressing your husband with her eyes. You practically hear her inhale when he’s close enough. He does smell good, but does she have to step into his space?

“This one?” Bucky asks.

The woman has to blink a few times before she responds. “Oh, sorry. The one next to it. You really are too kind,” she answers, sweeping her gaze over him from head to toe as he reaches over for another jar. You have to bite the inside of your cheek when she takes it from his hand. “It’s too bad you can’t help me bring this stuff in when I get home.”

Yeah, it is too bad.

Clearing his throat, Bucky nods in your direction. “Well, my son might miss me if I’m away for too long. And I’ll miss him and my wife.”

The woman goes rigid as she looks your way. “Your wife?”

Bucky smiles from ear to ear when you wave. “Yeah, my wife,” he proudly states, making your heart skip a beat.

Any jealousy or bad feeling you have slips away when you see some of the light leave the woman’s eyes and the sag in her shoulders. It’s almost like seeing her in a different light because you know how you’ve felt since giving birth. At times, you feel less attractive than normal, that your body won’t be the way it used to be. You wonder if Bucky still wants you.

And you want to be seen.

While you don’t know her story, you understand the need to feel wanted and desired. It doesn’t go away when you become a mother. You don’t even know if she is a mother or if she’s in the aisle shopping for a sister, friend, or someone else. Maybe her partner isn’t giving her the attention she needs. Maybe she isn’t with anyone.

Maybe she just needed a win today.

“Take care,” Bucky says politely before he walks toward you, leaving the woman alone to stare after him. “Anything else we need?” He asks once he puts the diapers on the bottom of the cart, giving Jamie a small tickle and making all three of you smile.

“I think we’re good,” you say, glancing down the aisle. You could grab Bucky’s hand and stake your claim as the woman makes eye contact with you, but you give her a small nod and a sympathetic smile instead before you push the cart away. “That was nice of you to help her,” you say once you’re out of sight.

Bucky raises an eyebrow as he glances your way. “I don’t usually say this outright, but I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.”

“Oh, she was,” you agree.

“Does that bother you?” He asks, brushing a kiss to your temple and making your heart race.

You shake your head as you think about it. “It did at first because it’s only natural to feel that way, but it went away pretty quickly. I have no reason to feel jealous or defensive. If it would’ve been bad or crossed a line, I would’ve stepped in. But you proudly proclaimed that I’m your wife and she backed off right away. And I know you’re coming home with Jamie and I, so why would I let it bother me?” you explain, spotting something soft in his gaze.

Like he’s amazed by you.

“That makes sense,” he says.

“I can only hope that someone like you comes along for her,” you add, your heart going out to the stranger.

The blue of Bucky’s eyes shine a bit brighter when you catch his gaze. “I love you,” he says so tenderly that you feel butterflies in your stomach and heart.

“I love you, too,” you promise before you nudge him. “And you know what? I don’t fault her at all. You know what wearing those pants does to people. It’s like some sort of sexy magic.”

His nose crinkles as he laughs, the sound making a few turn their heads. Once again, you don’t blame them for gawking. “Did you just say ‘sexy magic’ in front of our son? Is that why you like these pants?”

“Oh, yeah. You put a spell on me,” you smirk before you smile gently at your son. “And I’m very lucky for that because now I have you.”

You don’t know it yet, but Bucky will write in his diary to Jamie about how you handled yourself today. How you could’ve stormed over and grabbed him or made a snide comment to the woman, but you didn’t. And that if you felt jealous, even for a moment, you didn’t let it cloud your judgement. You know when to observe and when you need to step in. You know when to lead with your heart.

Just one of the many reasons Bucky Barnes considers himself lucky to call you his wife and the mother of his child.

And no matter how many times he gets hit on in the diaper aisle, he’ll always come home to you.

I adore this family. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[anantaru]

more rich boy alhaitham pls🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽i love the concept and how u wrote it😭🙏🏽😭🙏🏽😭🙏🏽😭🖤

cw. ⪩⪨ fem! reader, rich boy au, rich boy alhaitham, process of falling for you HARD, a little possessive again because I cannot help myself, rough sex & very messy

whether you believe it or not, rich boy alhaitham has never been in love before— and the scribe thinks about one specific kind of love here, one you read about in books, one you can evidently witness between two strangers while crossing the street.

essentially, he was attractive and he knew it, a man blessed with extraordinary intelligence and talent, bringing to mind that he was exceptionally wealthy as well.

so, speaking from an outer perspective, those factors certainly couldn't be the reason as to why he was unlucky on finding his perfect match— in fact, no one could ever deny how greatly alhaitham was being admired by the people of sumeru.

or was he?

or perhaps, they really don't often pay attention to him, because you see, he doesn't want them to.

he purposefully keeps a low profile, with a veiled identity and ulterior purposes hidden right beneath, so that he could rest easy and indulge in a comfortable life— with his wealth continuously growing, yet no specific target on what to do with it, or on who to spend it on besides himself.

yes, it was true, he sometimes catches himself getting lonely.

but in spite of that, after he meets you it's different, because suddenly alhaitham finds himself in trouble without noticing how the feelings of love were already coursing through his veins.

how unnoticeable falling in love was, snap and it's over, it's astonishing how he just needed to get closer to you.

you swallow thickly, and it was foreseeable that you ended up in his bed again, it's on the point of each night that it ends the exact same way now.

both of you knew why you were sharing a bed again— lewd and lustful traces curving over the slopes of your body and stimulating your needs— how utterly interesting how fast someone's mind could simply switch off and decide that you were in love now.

just from a simple look, and alhaitham was yours.

and he never would've let this happen to himself— the stress on how to navigate through an emotion such as love, especially since there wasn't a rational answer behind the multiple explanations he read about in the past, nor could you buy real, pure love with money.

if it were for anybody at all, he would just brush it off or at least try, but you just had to be so cruel and invade his mind.

you feel his gaze on you now, and it's the way his breath tumbles over your parted mouth that you know he's done for— his tongue driving between your lips before lapping over your pink muscle as his hips leisurely push into you.

it drives alhaitham insane, no amount of money could even come close to this feeling of pleasure and genuine lust, it's like a heavy drug someone would grow addicted to in the twinkling of an eye.

you squeal when he bites down on your bottom lip, your trembling frame teetering on the edge of a rapid sensation while every slap of skin turns the bedroom aflame, until the pleasure goes straight to your puffy clit, overflowing your belly with butterflies.

a burning pressure pricks at your spongy walls as his cock repeatedly crowds you, giving your hips a good squeeze as alhaitham presses you back into his length, making sure you're taking him all at once.

your arousal was clinging to his toned abs and turned the view before you all the more sinful, your soft pussy glistening with your slick and his pre when he uses it as a natural lubricant to make it pleasurable to the both of you, hitting your aching spots just like that.

alhaitham can hear how much you're enjoying this and he hopes he doesn't give away how much he has been enjoying this as well. of course, it's much more evident in your case, precisely from the way your moans trembled and your hips stuttered and flinch into his dripping dick, your body attempting but ultimately failing to meet his thrusts half way as you're struggling to find any strength to lift your hips up.

alhaitham sees it's too much for you by now, he can also feel it in the way you're clamping around the base of his erection with dripping heat, until he was all soaked and wet in your oozing arousal.

needless to say, the wealthy man placed a mental note into the deepest depths of his brain for later— to, as one might expect, treat you to a glorious shopping spree with a luxurious dinner waiting for you afterwards.

basically wherever you wanted to go to, he would make it possible, because obviously he will make it happen just for you! and wether the feelings he was encountering right now were pure and good ..

.. alhaitham would do anything to keep you, and he won't ever lose you.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[hurlingdown]

ur amazing at writing i kept reading ur sanji and zoro oneshots a couple of times but can we get relationship hcs of top male reader x zoro and sanji separately with a mix of nsfw and sfw? i need a nix of tooth-rotting fluff and filthy ass smut w them

relationship headcanons with zoro & sanji (top male reader, nsfw + sfw)

tags: perv!zoro, send him to horny jail, cute domestic fluff, snuggling, semi-public, soft & rough sex, spanking, jealousy, angsty crumb, sanji wears lipstick, smoking during sex, this is rly soft don't get fooled by the tags

ZORO

Romance was something neither of you regarded as crucial in your lives, until you met each other. But being with the Straw Hats meant being surrounded by constant chaos and never-ending laughter, and it wasn’t hard to realise that you found your peace in him, just as he did. 

It wasn’t a fleeting glance that made you fall in love with him. It was more gradual, more tender than you would’ve thought, with moments where you’d catch him with a poorly-hidden laugh with a joke you spouted out on a whim, or a breathtaking glare directed at you as you challenged him to a spar—moments where time would stop and you’d feel as though the world belonged to the two of you, and maybe it did. 

Zoro was awkward at first, vigilant eyes snapping up to yours every time you made an attempt to flirt with him, using his last brain cell to differentiate between a joke and a pick up line; but then he’d relax in time when you take his hands into your own or rub a thumb into the hot pulse of his neck, sliding your hand down to his lower back to make it clear what your intentions were. 

Your touch made him feel safe and assured, and that meant a lot to you. Zoro considered himself as the protector of the crew, constantly making sure that everyone was safe and okay, but rarely would someone ever ask if he was okay. You gradually became that someone in his life, and even if he wasn’t verbal about it, he was grateful to you. 

About… nicknames. From an outsider’s perspective, most would assume that Zoro wouldn’t be big on pet names and the like, considering that he demonstrated his familiarity through tone, not language. That was what you had presumed, too, in the beginning. It took over a week for you to slip up and call him ‘babe’, and he had flushed so violently all the way down his neck and chest. 

“What—what’d you say?”  “Nothing,” you quickly refuted. Perhaps he didn’t like it. “That was… the wind.”  “No, I—want to hear it.” Zoro glared at you, red in the face. “Again.”  “Babe.”  He smirked. “Yeah?” 

A few weeks into the relationship and your routines had already synced, with the two of you napping together on lazy afternoons, dozing away in each other’s arms; while on other days you’d workout and spar together. Sometimes he would purposefully let you pin him down onto the floor during a wrestling session, with you holding his hands above his head with a firm grip, the other pressing into his abdomen, warmth bleeding into skin. 

Zoro would spread his legs slightly wider to accommodate the girth of your knee, allowing it to settle snugly between his thighs. He’d feel himself getting turned on by the expressions you make, with you panting and straining with effort to keep him still. 

Sometimes he’d writhe around a bit, just to feel your strength overwhelming him, making you break a sweat. He’s a total perv when it comes to your scent: heavy and so, so masculine, especially after a nice, sweaty workout, sometimes even stealing your used shirts to keep them for himself. As for what he does with them—you haven’t found out yet. 

At night, though, it’s as if he becomes an entirely different person. He would crawl into bed with you after taking a shower together to wind down for the day, burying his face into the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent, damp hair tickling your cheek. 

Taking the hint, you would pull him into your arms, knowing he was feeling needy and wanted someone to hold him. He would mumble a “love you”, drape an arm over your waist and fall asleep a minute later. Your night together would end once you heard his soft snores, and you’d kiss his face and hair, lavishing him with the affection you weren’t able to give him during the day, before you, too, inevitably fall asleep. 

You had thought Zoro would be more hesitant about his wants as someone who was clearly a virgin until not long ago, but boy, you were so wrong. 

After you figured out each other’s boundaries, he’d stride up to you and tell you directly. “I’m horny,” or “Fuck me,” or “I want you in bed tonight.” On other days, when you’re busy doing something else, he would crawl onto your lap, grinding his ass against your dick to get your attention, or directly palm you through your pants when he thinks no one is looking. If he wants something, he’ll get it. 

You weren’t one to deny him of his monstrous sex drive, despite the fact that he could quite literally have you take him anywhere. Secluded alleyways, the crow’s nest, even the damn kitchen—he had tried to rile you up one time while you were pouring yourself a drink, bending over the kitchen counter with a nasty, nasty expression. 

His elbows were perched on the counter with his ass facing you, and he was biting his lip, face flushing, forming an obscene expression as he looked at you heatedly over his shoulder. 

“Somethin’ the matter?”  You scoffed at the audacity. “What do you think you’re doing?”  Zoro propped his head on his fist. “Standing.”  You sent him a look of disapproval.  “Zoro. Sanji’ll kill us. You know that.”  He smirked at this. “Like that scrawny love-cook could.”  Your eyes flitted over to the doorknob uncertainly, only to find it locked. The little shit had planned this. Of course he did.  “Are you g’na make me wait?” He pushed his hips towards you, back arching a little. “Didn’t wear any underwear for you.” 

He knew exactly what to say to turn you on, not that you weren’t hard enough already—and as much as you hated it sometimes, there was an aggravating part of you that loved it. 

“Fuck it,” you swore, ripping off your belt and hurrying over to yank down his pants, and he gave a delighted shiver, knowing he had won. 

Sex with Zoro was almost animalistic, and it made sense that his favourite positions were either mating press, or doggy-style. 

He liked having you take care of him, and occasionally he’d ask you you to fuck him until he fell asleep, but it didn’t mean that he had to play an entirely passive role in your sex life. You’d watch him take you so well, almost like he was made for it, moaning and cursing so shamelessly as he brutally thrusted back against your hips, letting you know how good you were making him feel. 

(You’d gotten several complaints by the crew from the sheer amount of noise the two of you would make during sex. No one wanted to know how big your cock was, or how tight his hole was milking you.) 

He’d let you bite him all over his back—the symbol of his pride, and it was such a turn on to know that you were the only one who could leave scars there. And it was the same for you, too: at times, when he wakes up before you, you’d feel a finger trailing the scratch marks he left all over your back and shoulders the night before, and you would hear a pleased hum as he finds one that had been scarred into skin. 

On other days, though, he’d prefer making love with you. To have you as close as possible during sex, arms wound around your neck and legs securing your waist in place, letting out breathy whines into your ear as you ground the fat tip of your cock into his prostate. 

“I’m so fuckin’ close,” he’d whimper, but you’d wait it out instead of going harder and faster like he wanted, and you knew he needed to learn this—losing control. And by the end of the night he would be trembling and sobbing in your arms as you whispered comforting phrases, telling him how good he was for waiting before giving him his reward. 

Both of you are still learning, and your relationship isn’t perfect, but you’ve grown to notice and take care of each other’s wants and needs, making the most of your time spent together, and that was more than enough. 

SANJI Falling in love with Sanji was one of the things you once feared the most, and yet the outcome made you the happiest man alive. 

You had known that he wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings, but you couldn’t stop the way your affection for him seeped out in small glances, compliments—whether on the food he made for you or the way he dressed, and brief touches here and there, and the blush that bloomed on his cheeks whenever you did so just confused you even more. 

It wasn’t easy building up the courage to confess your feelings for him, but on the same night you were prepared to get rejected, he had taken liquid courage and had sort of marched towards you to grab your face and plant a firm kiss on your lips, eyes squeezed shut and slightly trembling. And that cued the beginning of your relationship. 

At first, he was, surprisingly, extremely unused to people flirting back with him, often getting flustered whenever you responded to a suggestive remark with a toe-curling kiss, or a bold touch that left goosebumps in its wake. He had always welcomed the use of pet names, though—sweetheart, darling, babe, love—the cheesier, the more he liked. 

Over the months, you found out that Sanji was an extremely attentive lover. It doesn’t matter if it was regarding food or your health, before you say the word, he would already have it prepared for you. 

“Hungry, sweetheart?”  “Not really. But thank you.”  “Tired? Want to cuddle?”  “... After I finish my work, then yeah, please.” You smiled at him—already lying on the bed, in his pyjamas, waiting for you to finish and spoon him. 

He would make special desserts for you after meals, keeping it hidden from Luffy and the others in a locked section of the refrigerator that only the both of you could access. Afterwards, as a way of saying thank you to him, you would french-kiss him with sweetness still lingering on your tongue. He found himself looking forward to those kisses. They were special to him. 

Another thing is that Sanji’s very good with his hands, so oftentimes you would find yourself in the tub with him gently massaging your shoulders and your scalp, not stopping until he’s satisfied with the string of appreciative noises you make. You would offer to help him, but he tells you every time that he’s all good with just pleasing you—knowing very well that his body wouldn’t be able to handle such an intimate massage from you. 

Jealousy was something the both of you couldn’t handle that well—one of the major things that needed fixing in your relationship. You knew he wasn’t going to give up on flirting with every beautiful woman he had an interaction with—that was imbued into his personality—but that didn’t mean you didn’t have a right to get possessive. 

One time at a bar, instead of Sanji initiating the flirting as usual, a redhead strode up to him, touched him in front of you, and pressed a kiss to his lips with a sultry smile. Sanji froze, unable to react in time, and the eye that peeked over to look at you was full of guilt and something else. 

That night, you had bent him over your lap and spanked him so hard he had turned into a blubbering mess of “more” and “too much”, crying and telling you he was sorry, that he wouldn’t let it happen again. By the time you were done with him, he had passed out with the mattress under him drenched with white, his flaccid dick telling you that he had came untouched. You cleaned him up and laid him on your shared bed, lying on the opposite side with a heavy heart. 

In the morning, you woke up to Sanji lying in your arms, his eyelids red and swollen, lips chapped. When he woke up, he had sincerely apologised, telling you that he had been genuinely so afraid of you leaving him. 

Since then, he’s only had eyes for you, even being less affectionate to Nami and Robin than usual—but one could notice him stealing dumb, lovesick glances at you, or the quirk of his eyebrow every time you spoke up, or his rare smile when you caught his eye across the room. 

Sex with Sanji depended on the mood. He was always up to trying new things—even going so far as to propose them himself.

Sometimes, he’d borrow lipstick from Nami to apply all over his lips, only to press open-mouthed kisses to your pulse, claiming your heartbeat. 

The first time you saw him with lipstick on, it felt like a fever dream. 

“Are you wearing lipstick?”  “Yeah. Do you like it?”  “You’re so fucking hot.” 

You were insanely into it. Next moment he was riding you slow with a cigarette between his full lips, staining the filter with a lovely dark red before placing it in your mouth in an indirect kiss. 

At some point you got tired of all the smoke, and decided to topple him over onto the bed so you could fuck him properly. He was gasping for air by then, and was forced to put out the cigarette out on the ashtray nearby, soft whiny moans punched out of him as he bewailed at the loss of it. 

“D-darling! Slow down—that was a perfectly—fine, hngh, cigarette—!”  “It was distracting you.”  “You’re—you’re the one who decided to jump me when I was—!”  “Not my fault you decided to wear lipstick, love.”  “Ah, just shut up n’ kiss me—” 

You bent down to kiss him with a grin, muffling his whimpers as he mumbled something about going to come soon. There were lipstick smudges all over your lips and face, and you revelled in the taste of sugar sweet mixed with the heavier, dull scent of tobacco. It should be disgusting—but he tasted heavenly to you. 

You groaned as he felt his walls grip you so suddenly, your impending orgasm crashing down onto you like magma stirring in your core. As your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, you had an epiphany. 

Sanji wore lipstick for a reason. 

The way he used to constantly flirt with women and his habit of smoking were the parts of himself that Sanji was willing to give up for you. Learning to be attentive and figuring out your likes and peeves were parts of himself that he acquired for you. 

Now, they were all bits and pieces of the man you were in a happy relationship with, the man you loved more than anything else in the world. 

And if Sanji was willing to give up himself for you, then you would do the same, for him.  masterlist! p.s. fixed!

[itsswritten]

teeny tiny

Pairing: Fairy reader x Azriel

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: Azriel practices dwindling with you. (Just some fluff, mutual pining, pre bond snapping)

Wings Universe - read more from this couple here.

Azriel was watching you intently, a soft smile spread on his lips as his gaze danced across your expression. You were so passionate when you spoke about your work– your duty as a fairy. 

A stark difference to how he felt about being an Illyrian.

But knowing you now for only a year, you had softened that perspective he had for his own heritage. Purely by how dedicated you were to yours, and how you lit up whenever you got to speak about it. Naturally, when getting to know the IC you had wanted to learn everything about the Illyrians, everything about the sisters, about Amren. Every finer detail.

That warm nature of yours, got even the most reserved opening themselves up to you. You were always genuinely interested too, mesmerised in the differences and similarities you found among your new friends. You would never scrimp on compliments either, lovely words rolling off your tongue in awe when Cassian had explained some Illyrian lore. You even went as far to admit that you’d always thought the dark winged fae looked very cool and fierce. 

Azriel could vividly remember the heat filling your cheeks one evening at Rita’s when you’d admitted that, the faerie wine offering you some liquid courage. The comment had gone straight to Cassian’s head, prancing round Rita’s flexing in front of Nesta with a stealthy look, posing for her. “Look how fierce I look, Nes,” Nesta only rolled her eyes.

Azriel, though, had kept that comment. Tucked it away in the corner of his mind that he saved purely for you. A space filled with compliments from you, mentions of the things you loved, or observations of when he thought you looked especially beautiful– which truly was everyday. That corner of his mind was slowly growing by the day, bit by bit consuming him more and more. But he didn’t mind. For every new area you occupied in his consciousness, it replaced something dark instead. Those nightmares became few and far between after you entered his life, and he felt lighter, brighter. 

A mark that could only be left by a radiant individual– you.

Ever since he’d met you, he was absolutely smitten. There was a magnetic charge between you both, that just couldn’t keep him away. He was like a moth to a light, fluttering so dangerously close that if he wasn’t careful he might just burn. 

But he couldn’t stop. Despite the risk of it all, the risk of you burning his desires down. The obvious rejection you would undoubtedly give him if his feelings ever became known. So he settled for friendship, in fact savoured in it. He welcomed the friendly banter and familiar touches you so kindly offered him, but sometimes he dared to imagine…selfishly letting himself wonder, if he was to confess, would it really all go up in flames?…or would a warm glow await him instead.

Azriel began to look for the good parts of his own culture, an excuse to be able to share something with you. Little anecdotes of younger years with his brothers, the plants that grew in the harsh terrain of Ramiel, and what creatures may lurk in those mountains. Something Azriel noticed had piqued your interest. 

He found you numerous times after that in the library with Nesta and Gwyn, looking through bestiaries and field journals. Your commitment to the land and its creatures never wavering. You had found old scriptures, thousands of years old, of rare creatures that roamed the Illyrian land. Feline-like beasts that apparently once lived among Illyrians as their companions, a familiar of sorts. You had practically barged into Azriel’s room one evening when you had unearthed this new information, kneeled on his bed sharing this new discovery word for word as you read the translated version Gwyn had given you. 

“We’ll have to go look for them Az,” You had beamed, “It’ll be like an adventure, and well I could write it off as work too seeing as technically this falls under my jurisdiction.” 

Azriel had never cared much for his own culture and myths, actually, had rather hated every aspect of it. But somehow, watching you find the beauty between the cracks changed something in him. Over time the dismal opinion he had of Illyrians and that part of himself, paired with the progression in the camps had made a slight difference.

Today though, today, you were sharing even more of your world.

“So I thought, you know with you already being able to winnow you would grasp this the easiest” you smiled at Az.

You had brought him to the edge of one of the night court meadows you usually worked at. Elain had asked to join you on a day's work for the spring season, once confessing she wished the cauldron had turned her into a fairy just like you. You had told her she was perfect the way she was, exactly who she was supposed to be, and promised her anyone of any kind was welcome in the meadows. 

What was supposed to be a fun girls day with Elain had quickly snowballed into a field trip, the rest of the inner circle adamant they had to come too. But if your friends couldn’t master the art of dwindling then they would not be permitted in the meadows. Rhys and Feyre were fine, that unlimited pot of power they both possessed actually meant you’d caught them several months ago, rolling around in a flower enjoying some quality time together. You’re not sure who was more embarrassed, yourself or Feyre when Rhys clumsily fell out of a flower bell stark naked covered in pollen.

Before the others would be allowed to cross the threshold of the meadows you would need to teach them first.

“Dwindling is a lot like winnowing, how you move yourself to a different space. Or even how your shadows move you through space. It’s essentially the same, but it’s the space within you that’s moving…well smaller.” 

Your hands had been spread wide in your explanation, bringing them closer together as if your movement were perfectly representing how it worked. Your brows furrowed though, as Azriel looked at you with a soft dazed expression. Almost glassy eyed with a dumb smile on his mouth.

“Are you even listening to me Az?” Your tone felt stern leaving your lips. A little huff following after, that got his shadows moving in a giddy manner. It wasn’t just Azriel that found you utterly adorable, but his shadows too had a hard time hiding how your expressions caused a stir in them.

How they basked in your laughter, grew agitated in your discomfort or selfishly, liked to relish in your charming pouts.

Azriel quickly shook his head, as if shaking himself from the daze you so often ensnared him in, “I’m always listening,” he promised.

You rolled your bottom lip through your teeth gently, pausing for a moment to take in his words. How it had struck a ripple through your body, that often created butterflies in your stomach. Glancing up through your lashes you took your friend in, his large strong frame towering over you, never in an intimidating way. No, his presence, however daunting to others, always filled you with safety and comfort you hadn’t felt around many. And there were those beautiful hazel eyes that often reminded you of the sunrise after you’d worked the night shift. Golden rays breaking through the midnight blanket, spilling hazel threads into petals of blue.

Maybe one day you would tell him how when the sky filled with ribbons of gold and sapphire, that you only thought of him.

Quickly you stopped yourself from falling into your own daze, remembering his passing words. 

I’m always listening. 

That he was. So attentive, so kind, you’re not sure what you did to deserve the friendship of the Shadowsinger. You continued on, brushing over how genuine his words sounded. Rummaging around in your bag you pulled out a pouch of fairy dust.

“This amplifies your power, makes it easier to shrink. Should also help with the nausea,” you muttered, now choosing to ignore the way his eyes seemed to drink you up.

It was getting increasingly hard to disregard the effect the Shadowsinger had on you. He was so beautiful, so pretty– in that rugged Illyrian way. And he was very thoughtful too, and there was the way he said things to you sometimes that made it hard not to assume it meant more. Every word felt like a whispered kiss or unspoken promise, that you found yourself at times hoping, and daydreaming that perhaps it did mean something deeper.

Sprinkling the dust over Azriel, his nose scrunched a little at the scent. So familiar, he realised it reminded him of you. That lingering scent of fairy dust was always on you, mixed with vanilla and hints of honey, an underlying breeze of peonies. Your scent alone was enough to enchant him, enough to know he would be dreaming of you again tonight. His consciousness would slip him into a blissful haze of what it would be like to envelope himself in the crook of your neck and laze in your aroma.

Gently you took his hands into yours, his ragged hands engulfing your own. 

Azriel couldn’t help notice the stark contrast. How perfect and soft you were, delicate and light. He was rough and weathered around the edges, hardened by war and conflict. A gentle squeeze from you pulled him from his thoughts, realising how close you were now, he would only have to lean down slightly to bridge the gap between you. So close he could press his lips to top of your head and–

As if brushing that thought from his mind, his shadows moved towards you. Brushing a strand of hair from your face, while the other tendrils wove through the air in between you both like a dance.

“Are you ready Az? Remember everything I taught you?”

He nodded. 

Channelling his power in the technique you had shown him, his eyes fluttered shut. Honing in on the warmth of your hands and the faint sound of the breeze. His siphons simmered a glow as vibrations of power and space moved over the sharp lines and angles of his body, retracting and restricting the space within.

The air sounded different all of a sudden.

Vibrations growing louder, rustles becoming more powerful. Slowly Azriel opened his eyes, looking down at you, standing as you were before. He questioned if he’d even managed to do it, but as he glanced up he saw the tall green vertebrae of the grass tower above. The strands gently swaying in the wind, allowing the morning sun to filter through and cast viridescent shadows across the earth.

He had done it. He had dwindled.

The air was filled with a symphony of sounds, the song of crickets and the gentle rustling of the grass in the wind. Butterflies flitted by, leaving a gentle gust of wind in their wake. They were larger than him now, and he could vividly see the intricate designs and colours that lay on their wings.

“Az? Azriel are you okay? How do you feel?”

He hadn’t even realised you were talking, not until your hand gently pressed against the side of his face. Your thumb tracing the line of his jaw, as you looked up to him in concern.

“I feel fine,” he replied, finally remembering to take a breath as your touch left him.

“No nausea? You looked a little peaky for a moment, I was worried,”

Your remaining hand had slipped from his gentle grip, a simmer in his chest wishing it would remain. But Azriel unfurled his wings, stretching the dark membranes out, distributing his weight onto either feet to check his balance. 

“Okay…” You smiled then, “This went better than I thought, you know it’s Cassian I’m most worried about. I just have a feeling he’ll sneeze himself into a giant or something,”

“Wait, is that possible?”

“No, or at least I don’t think so. But somehow I could see it happening with Cass,” You laughed. The angelic waves of your laughter pulled up the corners of his lips as he let out a chuckle.

Oh Azriel could stay in this moment forever. Just the two of you, no one else in sight for miles.The sun basking it’s glow upon you both. Your laughter faded into a comfortable silence before you closed your eyes, head tilting up towards the sun as the rays washed over your face. 

Azriel thanked the Mother again for the blessings he had received since knowing you, because this moment right here– to be with you was surely one.

“Y/n…” Azriel couldn’t help breathe your name out, it barely a whisper as words he kept tucked in that corner of his mind seemed to pile into his mouth.

Gently your eyes fluttered open, your expression turning to him with a light hum in question. But before he could even untangle the mess of confessions on his tongue, a shadow loomed above.

With a slight jump, you hastily stepped back, colliding into the tough warm frame of the Shadowsinger, craning your neck up to see what had cast such a darkness.

A shadow– Azriel’s shadow.

The smokey tendril seemed to loom over you both inquisitively. It’s movements speaking of a curiosity to how its master was now so tiny.

“There’s always one,” Azriel grumbled, his hand tenderly moving to the small of your back for a moment as he stepped to your side.

Azriel crossed his arms across his chest, his expression boring on unimpressed as he glanced up at the disobedient wisp.

“You’ve got no excuse,” Azriel chastised, referring to the other shadows that had obediently followed an appropriate size to him after dwindling. 

The shadow slumped a little in response, eliciting a small gasp from you at how utterly adorable you found it. As if remembering you were there the shadow turned it’s attention. Azriel’s earlier command to resize itself held no authority but it quickly slinked itself slightly smaller for you. It’s size resembled something of Azriel’s shape as it twirled around you making the layers of your dress flutter up in the wind.

“Oh my…” Your cheeks heated a rosy hue as you attempted to hold your dress down in the gust of air.

“Sorry about that,” Azriel heaved, his patience growing thin as he tried to hide his slight embarrassment at his unruly shadow.

“It’s quite alright Azriel,” you reassured him with a light chuckle, the smile on your lips easing him. The use of his full name, raising goosebumps on his skin.

It wasn’t the only thing your smile eased, the shadow, as if melting under you, softened like honey. Oozing back behind Azriel’s wings in a dazed infatuation.

“Come,” you took Azriel’s hand in yours. Pulling him gently through the blades of green. “You should settle in this size for a while, make sure everything feels okay before we return,”

Azriel watched your fingers interlock with his, the smaller wisps of his shadows winding around your joined hands. Whispering words to one another that he couldn’t hear. 

He swallowed hard, once, twice taking in the view before him. Your usual pink dress dipping to the small of your back, taut flawless skin kissed under the sun as you pulled him through the green. No wings on show, though.

He wondered when you would share that part of you…if ever. 

Azriel would never ask, but he hoped one day you trusted him enough.

That he would be so lucky. But as you glanced back over your shoulder, sending him a soft smile that seemed to bury itself deep into his chest. He pondered, if for only a moment, that perhaps he was lucky.

a/n: just a little instalment from your favourite couple! <3 What else do you want to see from them?? (Other than flower sex , I promise this is coming👀)

forever tags: @lilah-asteria @illyrianbitch @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @marscardigan

Wings tags: @minaethrym

[neil-gaiman]

Hello I hope you’re having a nice day!! I don’t know if you’ve answered this before but I had a question concerning The Sandman about a debate I can’t get a clear answer to.

About Desire and Unity’s relationship; would it be considered rape? In my initial interpretation (as someone who became a fan via the show and hasn’t finished the comics yet) I interpreted the comic’s mention of it as being through the perspective of the doctors — the only conclusion that would be understandable in the waking world. In the show, Unity regards Desire with fondness/nostalgia, so I assumed they ‘seduced’ or ‘courted’ her in her dream and thus was fairly consensual. But because it’s a very very complex and impossible situation, would it still be considered rape since she didn’t technically consent in the waking world? Does her consent hold the same gravity since she wasn’t fully aware? Would Unity herself consider it rape/sexual assault?? Are the situations (comic vs show) different canons??

(Again I haven’t finished the comics so maybe this has already been answered, I get confused and lost by small details very easily so my media literacy isn’t always the best lol)

What’s your general feelings on this?? BTW THIS IS NOT ME CONDEMNING YOU FOR EITHER OUTCOME OF COURSE!! I think these conversations are very important to have in all sorts of medias. And I know it’s especially difficult and even unfair at times to hold supernatural beings or situations to the same justices or perspectives as humanity. Also the time period would probably affect things as well. I just wanted to know cause Desire is one of my favourite characters and I’m not sure if I should feel guilty for that. Anyways I’m rambling THANK YOU FOR READING I LOVE YOUR WRITING ‼️

(Sorry if I was meant to censor rape I forgot if tumblr censors it or not 🤡)

Unity fell in love with someone in her dream, had a number of interactions and had consenting sex with them in her dream. In the waking world, her body parthenogenically reproduced. No physical interaction occurred in the waking world. No DNA was exchanged.

Beyond that, you're on your own.

[yowlthinks]

The Final 15: Aziraphale's decision matrix in a no-choice situation

I have been thinking and reading about what happened since season 2 came out, and I think I have finally been able to put it all down into a logical sequence. This meta is the result of both countless posts I have read on tumblr and my own thoughts.

But let us start from the beginning, which is essentially Metatron's offer:

Notice how Aziraphale consistently declines the honour, as Metatron keeps pressing. When he says that Aziraphale is the perfect choice he also mentions that Aziraphale "is a leader, is honest and doesn't just tell people what they want to hear", which is of course a lie and they both know it. Initially, Aziraphale can't deny it because he can't just go "well, actually, I have been doing exactly that, stretching the truth in my reports and on a few notable occasions outright lying to my superiors and even God Herself". So he deflects to "where will I get my coffee?", preferring to highlight his attachment to Earth. In response to that Metatron makes his final move: he knows about Aziraphale's partnership with Crowley, and that means he knows about the lies.

This threat to Crowley gets Aziraphale to the following decision matrix:

Telling Crowley about the threat is useless. Aziraphale knows he will suggest running away together, and that puts them both in danger. Similarly, running away alone / hiding Aziraphale will not be a good move either because Metatron will not hesitate to harm Crowley and use him as a bait for Aziraphale.

So this means that Aziraphale's best option is not telling Crowley about the threat and persuading him to come with Aziraphale, his second best being going alone. Both of these offer best safety guarantees for Crowley, and this is something Aziraphale would not compromise on.

So our angel launches into this entire speech about making a difference. These are the only arguments he can come up with on the fly regarding why he took the position (the position he does not want! At a place he does not want to go back to!). And he is terrified that Metatron will come back and he won't be able to finish this conversation, won't be able to persuade Crowley. Add to this the fact that Crowley is clearly trying to have an important conversation with him too. A conversation they would like to have in private, but which Aziraphale knows can be interrupted at any moment. That's why he tries to stop Crowley, that's why he is constantly glancing out of the window.

Aziraphale is angry and frustrated, but this is mostly anger at Metatron who put him into this position, at the unfairness of it all, at himself for not being able to get Crowley to agree. It is the despair that just when Crowley confesses his love, instead of being able to say "I love you" back, he has to swallow it down again. Aziraphale's "I forgive you" is "I forgive you for not trusting me to make the best choice for us both", "I forgive you for not agreeing to go with me, I understand why you declined". And this aligns neatly with the theory about the Nightingale song in the car being a message from Aziraphale: it is his way of saying "I love you, I chose you, I chose our side, and that’s why I had to go".

And you know what? Crowley is a clever noodle and he knows Aziraphale well, so he will figure it out, he will spot this out of character, under-duress-only style of decision-making and start untangling that mystery.

We all know how it ends, and I can't wait to see it!

UPD: to put the above in perspective, see this meta with graphs!

[wickjump]

I don’t know why but I just don’t like ink and underverse didn’t really help change my opinion can you tell me some of his good qualities?

i’m going to tell this to you right now if you ever want to get to know ink as a character do not go to underverse. i love it so so much, but underverse is not canon to him at all and isn’t good to get to know ink in the way he actually is in his canon. so instead im going to blab at you for a while

a lot of people tend to fanonize him as ‘emotionless who doesn’t care about anyone and i’m EVIL’ which is also not him at all, and definitely skews peoples' perspective on him. emotionless ink could never be canon, as ink without his vials turns into what comyet described as a 'husk', unable to function or do anything, much less evil apathetic activities.

the concept of emotionless ink can work with individual stories, but the fandom really messes things up with how they portray him. (all art used here is by comyet and either explicitly canon to ink, or dubiously/half-canon)

literally look at him. that is the face of someone who is not pure evil.

this isn't the fault of the people who write him that way btw, but rather the fandom for being unable to tell the difference between fanon and canon sometimes. anyway, ink appeal:

i, and many other people, enjoy him because the way he acts is very similar to people with autism/adhd. being rude without intending to be so, hyperactive, memory issues, struggles with empathy, social situations, and connection to others, xyz. even little tidbits, like losing his pencils a lot, can be reminiscent of people with poor object permanence often caused by adhd or other disorders (me fr). aaaand, their adhd is actually canon!! he's not intentionally an asshole he's just neurodivergent and cannot read a room for shit!!

for that reason, he's used for neurodivergent people to project onto him. also because his canon story is unique in a way never seen before, just. ever. he expanded the idea of the multiverse in a way that helped allow other people to build on it. so in a way, we owe a lot of the utmv to ink (or comyet for coming up with the idea of him in the first place). i highly recommend you read the comic! it's on comyet's tumblr page, or dubbed on youtube by a few people.

also, to those who say he's completely faking his feelings, what do you think his vials are for? he canonically experiences grief and other strong emotions, even if they're not the same way others’ feelings are. booyah stop making him an asshole i beg i just want one piece of content where ink isnt evil im pleading

^^^^ ink after one of his father figures dies. he tries to cope by saying it's in the script for his au, something ink has sworn himself to protect, despite his grief. he's coping :(

a lot of other people also enjoy ink because of their moral greyness and their priorities being rather interesting. and before you think 'oh thats just underverse': no it is not! ink's priorities are keeping aus on script and protecting them rather than the lives of individual people, however acknowledges them more as people if they're aware of the multiverse (such as his father figures, zephyr and top). otherwise, he views people as characters. ink does not harm people for the sake of harming them, they avoid fighting and would not be abusive or antagonistic for the sake of being an antagonist.

this is actually what influenced the god headcanon, a headcanon where ink is the god of creativity (often paired with error as the god of destruction), as many people interpret this distanced behavior as similar to gods in many media.

his dynamic with other characters is also really interesting, and how he intertwines in their stories. despite none of it being canon to him, he's used in many other stories and he's moldable to each of them. he's canon to dream, while dream isn't canon to him. same with cross! (ok i lied its not all comyet, this art is by jakei (left) showcasing ink in underverse) mind you, this is not canon to ink, only cross/dream respectively. comyet seems fine with this though, and is friends with jakei, creator of underverse (im unsure about joku). ink is a flexible character!

the way he impacts stories that, on his part, aren't canon to him is unique and something generally unseen in other fandoms. even though he and error have never canonically met in either of their stories, their dynamic is so multiversal that regardless of the story, or their relationship in it, 99% of the time their tales are intertwined. the idea that two characters have impacted each other so much despite never canonically being aware of each other, much less meeting, is so appealing. comyet actually made non-canon art of them as friends :)

this is why people who hate errorink for the sole sake of "they hate each other in canon" are incorrect and wrong. comyet also drew ship art of them forever ago which i appreciate so much thank you for the food

ink also has two canon (adoptive) father figures!! i love that for him!! they’re one of very few sanses with two parents. they are the silliest of guys. he's killer but with better morals because he isn't a murderer (its ok i love killer too he can change its all nightmare's fault pls believe me)

also he's french. imaginez être français. épouvantable. /joke (he is french tho)

also, he's canonically he/they and aroace! this is why you see many more qpr headcanons for him than other characters, though some people interpret him in other ways. though he's not non-binary (referred to as a male by comyet several times, even in the same sentence stating his pronouns), just flexible with pronouns, many people also headcanon him to be non-binary or otherwise trans.

overall, i think his appeal comes from how unique he is, how the fandom has expanded upon and used him in so many different ways, and generally his relatability to many neurodivergent people, me included. i love u ink sans.

UGH HES SO COOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! consume more content of them where they aren’t pure evil for one reason or another and you'll grow to like them i prommy. he's been screwed over by the fandom so many times